Part of Forever
by ausland
Summary: A series of changes. Severus Snape demands Dumbledore tell someone about his request that Severus murder him. Severus teaches Hermione Granger Occlumency to keep his secrets. And Hermione Granger's Patronus chooses a new form, something that only happens with eternal, unchanging love.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello, my dear readers.**

 **This is the long awaited reward story to thank everyone who voted for me in the SSHG awards. _For the Only Hope_ won first place in the WIP category, thanks to everyone who voted. I asked for prompts, and I got one from the dragon and the rose that just caught my imagination. I had to write this story... although I quickly hit a block. More on that below. **

**A quick note: the italicized porition at the end of the first section is from JKR's twitter. Also, while Harry Potter belongs to her, this story is dedicated to the dragon and the rose for providing the prompt.**

 **But for now, on to the story!**

* * *

"Expecto Patronum." Hermione Granger's voice was low and confident, and there was a smile woven with the words as her happiness poured out of her wand in pale silver smoke. The witch wasn't in danger; she didn't need to send a message of any type and the last time Dementors had been on the grounds of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry she had been fourteen and helping a fugitive. No, the Patronus she was casting was preparation for the next day's schoolwork. She would be expected to cast a corporeal Patronus for Professor Snape's Defense Against the Dark Arts class the next morning, and although she had been able to cast one since Harry Potter had taught her the winter before in their secret defense group.

Hermione watched the mist with a self-satisfied smile on her face, waiting for her familiar otter to dance before her as it always did. But as the mist settled, the smile slipped from her face.

"Oh no," she breathed. "Oh _no._ "

Before the witch, a silky silvery fox licked its paw daintily, looking up at her with clever, cunning eyes. It arched onto all four feet, padded over to her, nudged her once, then dissipated.

It was a good thing that she was sitting, because if not the girl would have toppled over in surprise.

"What on earth have I managed to do?" she asked weakly.

 _The Patronus only changes if it's eternal love- unchanging, part of the caster forever._

* * *

 _Months Earlier_

Dumbledore raised his blackened, useless hand, and examined it with the expression of one being shown an interesting curio. "You have done very well, Severus. How long do you think I have?" Dumbledore's tone was conversational; he might have been asking for a weather forecast or to be reminded of the score of last week's Quidditch match.

Snape hesitated, and then said, "I cannot tell. Maybe a year. There is no halting such a spell forever. It will spread eventually as it is the sort of curse that strengthens over time." His voice was clipped, harsh.

Dumbledore smiled. The news that he had less than a year to live seemed a matter of little or no concern to him. "I am fortunate, extremely fortunate, that I have you, Severus." His tone sent alarms off in Severus' head, warnings that something wasn't right. He was being manipulated, and he could see it as it was happening. Dumbledore draped weakly over his throne like chair, his blue eyes staring up at Severus, his rare praise- the old man was going to ask him to do something, something Severus was quite sure he wouldn't like.

"If you had only summoned me a little earlier, I might have been able to do more, buy you more time!" said Snape furiously. The portion of his mind where he kept his emotions was torn between wishing to be free of Dumbledore's machinations and wishing that it wouldn't have to end in the Headmaster's death. He looked down at the broken ring and the sword. "Did you think that breaking the ring would break the curse?"

"Something like that. . . I was delirious, no doubt. . . " said Dumbledore. With an effort he straightened himself in his chair. "Well, really, this makes matters much more straightforward." Dumbledore smiled. "I refer to the plan Lord Voldemort is revolving around me. His plan to have the poor Malfoy boy murder me."

Apprehension rose swiftly in Severus- there were few people whose safety he cared about. Lucius he owed, and therefore he had promised to do his best by Draco. If his godson's name was upon Dumbledore's lips, the boy was in danger. Although no more danger than he had been in since taking the Dark Mark. He sat down in the chair across from Dumbledore, speaking to occupy the old man as he thought. "The Dark Lord does not expect Draco to succeed. This is merely punishment for Lucius's recent failures. Slow torture for Draco's parents, while they watch him fail and pay the price."

"In short, the boy has had a death sentence pronounced upon him as surely as I have," said Dumbledore. _He reminds me of his upcoming death to garner my sympathy._ "Now, I should have thought the natural successor to the job, once Draco fails, is yourself?"

There was a short pause. "That, I think, is the Dark Lord's plan." Severus had been well aware that the Dark Lord was expecting this of him. Many sleepless nights had been devoted to trying to think a way around the problem.

"Lord Voldemort foresees a moment in the near future when he will not need a spy at Hogwarts?" A spasm rippled down Severus' arm painfully.

"He believes the school will soon be in his grasp, yes," said Severus slowly.

"And if it does fall into his grasp," said Dumbledore, almost, it seemed, as an aside, "I have your word that you will do all in your power to protect the students at Hogwarts?"

Severus gave a stiff nod. After all he had down to protect the school and the students inside it, to think that he would cease to do so as soon as the students were in more danger than they had ever been before was ridiculous.

"Good. Now then. Your first priority will be to discover what Draco is up to. A frightened teenage boy is a danger to others as well as to himself. Offer him help and guidance, he ought to accept, he likes you—"

"—much less since his father has lost favor," Severus interrupted. "Draco blames me, he thinks I have usurped Lucius's position." Of course he had usurped the role of right hand man, at least as much as a spy ever could. Life as one of the Dark Lord's Death Eaters was dangerous at best and it was far less life-threatening if one was in the Dark Lord's favor. Severus would garner that favor in any way he could, and the potential wrath of a teenaged boy was not enough to deter him.

"All the same, try. I am concerned less for myself than for accidental victims of whatever schemes might occur to the boy. Ultimately, of course, there is only one thing to be done if we are to save him from Lord Voldemort's wrath."

 _Here it comes._ Snape raised his eyebrows and his tone was sardonic as he asked, "Are you intending to let him kill you?" _Am I right? Is he going to ask me to do what I think he is?_

"Certainly not. You must kill me." The Headmaster's voice was calm and steady, as if he wasn't ordering his own murder.

Severus stared at him coldly. "Gladly. Under certain conditions."

That shocked Dumbledore, to Severus' satisfaction. That had been the goal, after all. "And what would those be?"

"If I'm correct," drawled Severus. "You were planning on keeping this conversation between you, me, and our audience of portraits. Am I wrong?"

Dumbledore frowned at Severus, straightening more and with less effort. "No, you are not. It is essential that it not get out-"

"Why?" interrupted Severus. "I disagree. If I am to continue in assisting the Order after you are gone, then they need to believe that I didn't murder you in cold blood- or, at least know that if I did murder you in cold blood, it was because you ordered me to and not on a whim." He gave the Headmaster a thin, malicious smile. "I'm not a man taken to whims, of course, but you must admit your raggedy band always tries to think the worst of me."

The muscle in Dumbledore's cheek was clenched tightly, and his uninjured hand flexed. "How would you help them?"

"I would still be a spy, Dumbledore," spat Snape. "I won't stop trying to save people just because you are gone. My loyalty is not to you in this war, the risks I take and the penalties I endure are not for your sake alone. At the end of this year, whether you die by my hand or of the curse you just brought upon yourself, I will continue to aid the Order of the Phoenix not because you command me to, but because it is the right thing to do. Therefore, I demand that someone in the Order know what you are asking me to do. Not so that they can see you for the manipulative man you are, but so that I can continue my life's work."

There was silence, punctuated by Dumbledore's still-harsh breathing. Severus' body thrummed with energy, with tension. He was defying him, defying him seriously for the first time in a long time. _He is stuck,_ thought Severus with something bordering on joy. _I've trapped him. He either can't make me kill him and hope that I'll do it anyway, or he has to agree to let an Order member know what he's planned._

The Headmaster and the spy locked eyes, taking each other's measure.

"Fine."

Severus blinked. "Well then. Minerva is the obvious choice-"

"I have my own conditions," Dumbledore snapped. "Minerva can't know. She's going to be running the school under you, so she has to believe that you are loyal to the Dark Lord as you will act. It can't be her."

"Kingsley, then," Severus said, only to be interrupted once more.

"I choose," Dumbledore said quickly. "I will choose."

Severus raised an eyebrow. "Very well," he said. "Who then?"

"Give me a week," Dumbledore told him, turning away and leaning back on his chair. As he spoke, he closed his eyes. "I'm tired, I can't make the best decision right now."

Severus stood, looking down at the old man. "I'll return Monday evening."

* * *

"Well, Dumbledore? Whom have you chosen?" Severus raised an eyebrow, examining Dumbledore's suspiciously smug face.

The Headmaster leaned forward, a small smile on his lips. "I believe I have come to the perfect compromise. Hermione Granger."

Severus leaned back, his eyes narrowing, mind racing.

 _Of course he chose Granger. She's not part of the actual Order, so she won't be listened to when they go against me. She's Potter's friend, but the debacle at the Ministry has shown that he doesn't listen to her. When it comes to my innocence, he definitely won't listen to her. At Hogwarts next year there will be little she can do to sway the student body to listen to me. Of course, that is if she and Potter are here next year- it would be a death sentence for them to be in a school controlled by the Dark Lord. So they'll be on the run- and they will need information._

 _What about Granger herself? Would she believe me? Would she trust me after it was all said and done?_

 _She's smart, brilliant perhaps, but too trusting of authority. Which is exactly why Albus chose her, of course, because she'll be so blinded by his authority that she'll never doubt a word he'd say. Unless I can make her doubt him…_

 _Could I do it? Could Granger actually work?_

 _She might be less trusting of authority after Umbridge- I could use that to my advantage perhaps. It would require spending time with her- unpleasant, but I can use it to shape the narrative to my advantage._

"She's not in the Order," he tried halfheartedly.

"I inducted her yesterday," said Dumbledore quickly. "She is my choice."

Severus scowled at him. "If it's Granger, I want the Defense position this year." _He doesn't need to know I'm actually surprisingly okay with this. If I can milk more out of it, I will._

Dumbledore pretended to consider for a moment, then nodded. "Done. I've needed to get Slughorn back for a while anyway."

 _Drat it. He had probably already been planning on offering me the Defense position this year. Well. At least he feels he came out on top in this scenario._ Severus conveniently chose to ignore that Dumbledore probably had come out on top. Well. Other than the fact that he had less than a year to live.

"Very well. I give my word that I will kill you in Draco's place when the time comes, if you allow me to tell Granger about my task."

Dumbledore's eyes narrowed. "I was going to tell her."

Meeting his eyes, Severus scoffed. "And I thought you considered me mildly intelligent. I won't let you twist the story as you normally do. I believe the purpose of this is for the Order to actually accept my help."

The Headmaster peered at Snape over his glasses. "Of course, the Granger girl must decide. You said that you wanted one person to know, and so it will be. But if she chooses not to believe you or chooses not to accept your help, then you may not tell anyone else."

Severus leaned back in his chair, scowling furiously at the Headmaster. "Putting my fate and the fate of the Order into the hands of a teenaged girl?"

"Your fate, Severus?" There was a bite in the blue eyes of the Headmaster and his incredulous voice. "What do you mean, your fate?"

Severus made his face be still, concealing all emotion. "If I survive this dratted war then she can testify that you commanded me to kill you. If the word gets out without the truth behind it, the general populace would want my head. It would be something, don't you agree Headmaster, for me to survive life under your thumb and the Dark Lord's for twenty years only to be convicted by the Wizengamot?"

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows. "Don't tell me you're expecting to survive, my dear boy? I thought you had yourself firmly convinced that you wouldn't see the end of this mess."

Severus looked away. "You know I must plan for all eventualities, even the unlikely ones."

There was a long silence, broken by a timid knock at the door. Dumbledore straightened in his chair, shaking out his robes to cover his blackened hand before tucking it under the desk and out of sight. "Come in, Miss Granger."

 _He's asked the dratted girl to come in now._ When he glared at the Headmaster, he shrugged. "Truthfully, I expected you to storm out the minute you heard the girl's name," he murmured. "I thought you'd be long gone by now."

Hermione Granger stepped through the doorway, her eyes taking in the office curiously. They lingered on the sleeping Fawkes, on the puffing and slightly dented silver instruments behind Dumbledore, on the perfect view of the Quidditch pitch outside Dumbledore's window (despite the fact that the tour faced the opposite direction). Snape steeled himself for her examination, gritting his teeth. As he expected, her eyes lingered on him the longest.

"This is not a museum and I am not here for your perusal, Miss Granger. If you would be seated." His voice was cold and impetuous, with just a shade more contempt that what he used for his Potions students.

The girl blushed, then took the other seat in front of Dumbledore's desk. "You wanted to see me, Headmaster?" She kept her gaze steadily on the Headmaster, even as the red faded from her cheeks.

"Yes, yes," Dumbledore said, smiling benevolently at her. "I called you here because I believe you can play a role of great importance for the Order. If you agree, I will be giving you some information far beyond what the average Order member knows, and I will need you to keep it secret."

Next to him he could feel the girl's excitement, but to his surprise there was also trepidation. "I don't see why I would be the choice for this, Headmaster."

The smile didn't falter. "Nevertheless, my dear, I need you to swear an oath of confidence."

Severus held up a hand. "You are forgetting, Headmaster, that her purpose is not to keep it quiet," he drawled, annoyance dripping from his words. "Her purpose is to be witness and share the information. Therefore, swearing an oath on her magic, as you were no doubt about to ask her to do, would be counterproductive. No oath."

For the moment that Hermione's gaze was off the Headmaster and on Severus, Severus was treated to a black expression from Dumbledore. He met the girl's eyes, raising an eyebrow expectantly. She flushed again and turned back to the Headmaster, who was once again a friendly grandfather figure.

He forced a chuckle. "Look at me in my old age," he said to Hermione jokingly. "Severus is, of course, correct. But I will need to ask you to use your considerable intelligence and prudence to decided when and to whom to divulge what I am about to tell you. Also, I will require that you attend Occlumency lessons with Severus, so that we can be sure that you can defend this information from the prying eyes of others if need be."

 _Well, he thinks that this is to punish me… but I think it'll serve my purposes quite well to be 'forced' to spend time with the girl. More time for her to trust me, and legitimate opportunities to look in her mind. Excellent._ Severus scowled at Dumbledore, then turned his gaze to the girl.

Despite the fact that he had just snapped at her for examining him, Severus was now doing the same to Hermione. He took note of her furrowed brow, the way she was worrying at her lip, the thinking that was obviously taking place behind her eyes. _At least she's actually thinking about this._

"I agree," Hermione said finally.

Severus watched, silent, as Dumbledore showed her his withered hand, as he explained that he had contracted a curse and was not expected to live out the year, how Draco Malfoy had been assigned to kill him. He watched Granger's horror, the worry that immediately took hold in her face and posture. As the big reveal approached, he became tenser and tenser.

"And so, to spare Draco's soul and for my own sake, I have asked Severus to take my life with the time comes," Dumbledore said, a note of sad finality in his voice. "I've thought long and hard about this, and both Severus and I agree that it is best if it is him and not Draco. Killing rips apart the soul, my dear girl, and I want to save your young classmate from that awful fate."

Hermione leaned back in the chair, her eyes wide. "But what about Professor Snape's soul?" she asked quietly. "What about him?"

Severus was so floored by her question he barely heard Dumbledore's answer.

"Only Severus knows if helping an old man avoid pain and humiliation will hurt his soul," he heard, as if he was underwater and Dumbledore was far away. "It will be a killing of mercy, my dear, not of hate."

Abruptly Severus stood, moving toward the window so he wouldn't have to look at either of them. Dimly he could hear Hermione questioning the Headmaster asking him why he was telling her this.

"Because, my child, the Ministry will soon fall, Hogwarts will fall. After he kills me, Severus will be publically declaring his allegiance to the Dark and severing all but one connection with the Light- and that connection will by you."

"Me?"

"He will be running the school, and will have very few opportunities to get information to you. For his sake, it is important that the Order believe that Severus was a traitor, that he has turned on them. When he gives you information, you must be the one to pass it along. Be creative with your sources."

"And when it's all over, I'll make sure he is exonerated too," Hermione added. "That the world will know he was a hero."

Severus scoffed, making both of them turn to him. "I'm no hero, Miss Granger. I am a Death Eater."

She met his eyes squarely. He had never noticed that they were the color of whiskey when the firelight hit the tumbler in the right way and illuminated the richness of the liquid. "And yet, here you are."

"Your first Occlumency lesson will be on Thursday," he said finally. "Are you staying at the Burrow?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes, sir."

"Can you Floo to Hogwarts?"

She hesitated for a moment. "I would have to get some Floo powder," she said, glancing at Dumbledore. "I wouldn't want to impose on the Weasleys."

"Consider it taken care of," Dumbledore said jovially.

Sweeping to the door, Severus donned his cape and held open the door. "Be at my office by six on Thursday," he said sternly, and left.

* * *

That night Severus sat in his worn armchair, a glass of Firewhiskey between his long, thin fingers. He was staring into the fire, thinking hard about one Hermione Granger.

What did he want from the arrangement? Part of why he had asked Dumbledore to allow someone to know what had been asked of him was to rile the Headmaster, that had been true.

Another reason was to save his own skin. Slytherins were very against the idea of self-sacrifice- it was more of a Gryffindor ideal. There was a very low chance of his survival, but in the event that he did survive, he didn't want to live out the rest of his days in Azkaban or soulless.

But something the girl had said rankled at him- she had called him a hero. Would that be the way others saw him? No. The girl was foolish and idealistic and unrealistic. She had campaigned to save the house-elves for Merlin's sake. When it came to the downtrodden and mistreated, she was worse than Hagrid when confronted with a dangerous creature. No. When other heard about what he had done, they would grudgingly exonerate him, but they would never, never claim his as a hero.

The confrontation had disturbed him, but nothing had bothered him more than the question she had asked. _"And what about Professor Snape's soul? What about him?"_ When was the last time someone had asked after his welfare, had been concerned about him? Poppy, maybe, but that was her job. Lily, perhaps. But that disaster had ended more than twenty years ago, with one word, the taste of soap in his mouth and the desperation that led him to humiliate himself by sleeping outside of Gryffindor Tower every night.

How would he deal with Granger?

Well, the first question that any self-respecting Slytherin should ask would be, what did he want from this situation?

Severus was not sure. He had not planned for Dumbledore to ask him for death, he had not planned to bring someone else into the twisted relationship he had with the Headmaster. He knew he hated the old man as much as he relied on him for validation and for absolution. Atonement. Albus Dumbledore was his atonement for the wrongs he had done. He subjugated himself to another master to atone for his sins, a master he hated rather than worshiped. And now Granger was involved, at his request.

Maybe he had wanted someone else to know, though. Maybe he had wanted someone else in the Order to know how dark and twisted their great leader really was. Granger really was the perfect choice for that too- Dumbledore had unknowingly chosen the one person whom everyone thought had perfect respect for authority. But Hermione Granger had set him on fire without hesitation at twelve years old. If she thought authority was corrupt, she would fight to end it.

Was that what he wanted?

He didn't know.

* * *

Severus tapped long fingers on his desk impatiently, scowling at the door. His office was, for once, well lit, and he had magically raised it to a comfortable temperature. It made him uncomfortable- he was making an attempt to make the space he usually used to intimidate _comfortable_ of all things. Just for her.

At six exactly, two quick knocks came on the door.

"Enter," called Severus, his voice curt but not hostile.

She did so promptly, slipping inside and closing the door with a soft click. Hermione's hair was pulled back into a braid, leaving her face free for his inspection. He could see traces of nerves in the way she was worrying her lower lip and the way she quickly sat down and fixed her skirt.

Severus sighed, leaning back in his chair. "Miss Granger, I do not bite." Her eyes flicked up to his, then down. He tried again. "Although I understand why you have reason to distrust me from our past interactions, now we are meeting under a very different context."

This time she actually met his eyes. "You're teaching me Occlumency, sir. How is this different from the interactions a Potions teacher and student have?"

He hesitated for the briefest second. Once he answered, there would be a revelation if she was clever enough to see it, which she was. He might as well use it to his advantage. "Occlumency teaches you how to protect your mind, which requires me entering your mind and viewing your memories. I will even be letting you into my own mind, so you can see how I've constructed my defenses. I will become familiar with your best and worst memories, your most mundane memories, your embarrassing thoughts and your deepest fears, almost intimately so. It will be very different from knowing you just as a student in my Potions class. There I am concerned with your potion, that you are following the steps, that you are absorbing the information. I watch your hands. In this room, I will get to know you as Hermione Granger, not as just another student creating just another potion."

Her face tilted up to him, absorbing his words with an intensity that let him know she was committing what he said to memory. "That makes sense," she said, drawing out the words carefully. The slowness of her speech did not fool him- she was taking her time so that she could use the extra seconds to let her thoughts race ahead and form into tangible words. He did the same thing at times. "Except for one detail, Professor."

Severus arched one eyebrow imperiously. "And what would that be, Miss Granger?" he drawled, glad that he had anticipated this foray.

"Harry Potter," she answered sharply, leaning back in her own chair. She was proud of herself for catching it. "If that's the way to teach Occlumency, then why did you teach him like that last year?"

Severus gave her a thin smile. "I wasn't trying to teach Mr. Potter Occlumency," he said simply.

"Why?" asked Hermione.

"Guess," he prompted her. "Let me see how your mind works."

Hermione frowned slightly, but by the slight flush in her cheeks and the way she twined a curl around the fingers of her right hand, he knew that she was tempted by the problem. "The first question is what you were doing if you weren't teaching Occlumency," she said. He could hear every word but her voice hummed along like a murmur, continuous and with few inflections. "I'd go with what Harry's gut reaction was after every lesson- he felt as if his mind was weaker. He had more dreams after lessons. So you weren't strengthening his mind's defenses, you were weakening them."

"Correct," Severus said with a nod. "Continue. You've not yet answered the question."

To his surprise, she held up a slender finger. "I wasn't done yet," she said, a trace of humor in her tone. "Now. I was getting to that. Why would you weaken Harry's mind? Most people would stop at that, and assume you did so for your own purposes. I would go a step farther- you are a double agent, you answer to two masters. So which master asked you to do so? And to answer that question, who benefited from Harry continuing with the dreams? Well, Lord-"

"Do not say his name," Severus interrupted. When he caught the mulish set of her jaw, he shook his head. "Please, Miss Granger. With the Mark, it causes physical pain."

Hermione bit her lip. "I wasn't aware," she said quietly. "I'll refrain."

"Thank you," Severus said, inclining his head gravely. "You were on the right track. If you would like to finish?"

She nodded, jumping right back into the flow of her thoughts. "Right. So, You-Know-Who has been revealed. Every wizarding headline across the world was shouting that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has returned to Britain. Headmaster Dumbledore was reinstated to the Wizengamot, the new Minister for Magic asks his advice, and he was validated after a year of humiliation. I'd say that he came out on top in this one." Hermione tilted her head, meeting Severus' eyes. "So… my conclusion is that Headmaster Dumbledore asked you to give Harry lessons to weaken his mind… and when you informed You-Know-Who, you let him believe it was his idea."

"Impressive," Severus said bluntly. "Except for one thing- you were right because of luck. You guessed on the right things."

Hermione lifted both her eyebrows. "That's what I'm good at," she answered. "Making the right guess. Following the right trail."

"I'm guessing that you're very good at Arithmancy," Severus said after a moment. "Sorting out the future, past, and present through numbers, logic, and magic. You have a natural talent for it, am I right?"

Hermione's brow wrinkled. "So wait- me figuring that out was magic, not logic?"

"That isn't what I said," Severus corrected. "But I wouldn't be surprised if you had a spark of talent that helped." He shrugged. "Everyone has something that their magic helps with. Some people make better potions than others, even if they follow the exact same steps. A great Potions Master instinctively knows how to tilt the wrist with a stir, will pour in the next ingredient at the precise hundredth of a second that makes the potion its best. It's a mix of talent and magic and intuition and muscle memory. I'm simply suggesting you have the same kind of talent with Arithmancy and solving tricky problems."

"I'll have to think about that," Hermione said quietly. "But how right was I?"

Severus was unware that he was tracing his lips with his index finger as he thought. "The Headmaster did indeed ask me to weaken Mr. Potter's mind," he said finally. "He had his reasons; he always does. It worked out for him this time, but it was a real risk."

She had wound her curl tightly around her finger, and now she released it. The strand of hair bounced against her collarbone gently. "But we are doing something different," she said quietly. "More like what my research into Occlumency said teaching should be."

Severus nodded, and moved his chair closer to his desk, resting his elbows on the wood. "Lean forward, Miss Granger, and make eye contact with me," he instructed. "We shall begin."

She copied his posture, leaning forward and supporting herself with her elbows on his desk. Shyly, her eyes flicked up and met his. They were a clear brown, almost illuminated from some sort of inner sunlight, and framed with long curling lashes.

"Legilimens."

* * *

Hermione left the dungeons with her head spinning dangerously, her feet tracing a familiar route to the doors of the library without her knowledge. She hesitated for only a moment, before pushing open the heavy doors and slipping inside. Madam Pince was nowhere to be found, so Hermione quietly crept into the stacks, finding her favorite window niche. She had never sat there with the summer sun shining down- the red velvet was worn and warm. She pulled up her knees and gazed out the window, down at the lake, full of ripples as Hagrid tossed in something for the giant squid to feed upon.

Her eyes welled with quiet tears.

How much suffering had Severus Snape known?

The lesson had started with him entering her mind, just a brush. She hadn't even felt it, which he had promptly told her was the problem. Then he had shown her what a full intrusion looked like, rifling through her memories as if they were on a Rolodex. That had left her dizzy and with a full feeling in her head, as if her brain had grown a size.

They had taken a break then. He had handed her water, which she downed quickly, nervously. Despite all that he had said, she was still made nervous by his presence.

Finally, she had was granted access to his mind. He had started in hers, then had pulled her into his eyes. They were a grey so deep it was almost black, and falling into them had felt endless and terrifying. Then he had shown her his defenses, how he had made layers of surface thoughts and layers of memory and layers of hidden defenses. His mind was so complex- she had never seen anything like it.

But as she had been taken through his mind she had seen and heard snippets of memories and thoughts. There was the sound of fighting adults, of a child's quiet whimper. There were red tinged memories of pain and broken bones, of humiliation and pain.

He hadn't meant for her to see it all, of course. It had just happened. He had admitted that he had never taken anyone through his mind in that way before, and he didn't know what to expect. She wondered what he had seen in her mind.

Hermione wiped her eyes carefully, shivering slightly despite the sunlight streaming in the window. What strange territory was she wandering into? Gods, when the Headmaster had asked her to come to his office, she hadn't expected Professor Snape to be there, and she hadn't expected to be thrown into the intrigue on his side of the war.

And she hadn't expected to _like_ Professor Snape.

He wasn't that bad, it seemed. Scary, sure. Intimidating, sarcastic, cold, yes, he was all of those things. But for some reason… she didn't mind overmuch. She kept thinking what she had thought when Dumbledore had first explained it to her- the Headmaster had seemed so concerned for the state of Draco's soul, he hadn't given a thought to the soul of Severus Snape.

Well, if he wouldn't, she would.

Because she had seen what the Headmaster hadn't, and that was hope. Hope that he would survive the war, hope that he would be pardoned, hope that his soul would see the light of day again. She would make sure it would, no doubt about it.

With that, Hermione Granger stood from her seat and slipped out of the library unnoticed, going out into the bright summer's day with new determination.

* * *

 _Present_

"And you, Miss Granger." The cold voice that called her to the front of the class, made Hermione wish to sink down through her chair and deep into the earth. The last thing she wanted to do was the face the man who was the cause of all the trouble.

Hermione stood, but she did not move to leave her desk. "I'm sorry, Professor Snape," she said quietly. "I am unable to cast a Patronus."

A murmur spread throughout the class, making shame prickle Hermione's cheeks. The know-it-all, not knowing something? It was certainly cause for exclaim, at least until the cold eyes of the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor swept over the crowd, quieting her fellow students.

She refused to look at him, but she could _feel_ the curl of his lip in his words. "A mist of any sort will give you a passing grade," drawled the professor condescendingly. "Even if you cannot bring it to form. A failure to attempt will result in a zero."

Hermione nodded once. "Yes, Professor," she whispered, and sat down, to a chorus of gasps. Ron gaped at her, and Harry shook his head.

"You can do a Patronus, Hermione, I know you can," he said under his breath. "I've seen you-"

"Be quiet, Mr. Potter. If Miss Granger wishes to accept a failing grade, she may have it," said Professor Snape coldly. "Miss Greengrass."

Hermione stared at her desk with burning cheeks as all of her classmates successfully produced at least a cloud of mist. She looked so miserable that Ron's cheerful terrier liked her face worriedly, causing Ron to blush. When Blaise Zabini had gone, Professor Snape closed his grade book and went to the front of the class.

"A mediocre, but not unexpected showing today. Those of you who produced only mist, write one foot each on the proper wand movements for a Patronus, the proper intent behind a Patronus, and the situations in which a Patronus may be useful. If you managed to produce a corporeal Patronus, only the last is required from you. If you produced nothing-" and here there was a curl of his lip- "remain after class. Dismissed."

Hermione had been the only one who had produced nothing. In moments, the classroom had emptied and she faced Professor Snape alone.

When the door shut behind the last student, she rose and slung her bag over her shoulder, approaching his desk. Professor Snape leaned against the hard wood, arms crossed over his chest. On his harsh features was a frown of worry, a look that would have been unimaginable to one who was not aware of the friendship between the teacher and student.

Over the summer and the beginning of the school year, Severus Snape and Hermione Granger had met twice a week, for Occlumency lessons. After one particularly grueling session, he had offered her tea, and from then on it was Occlumency lessons and a discussion over tea. Books, theories, politics… and then history. To be more specific, Severus' personal history. It had been in August that he had revealed his purpose to her, asking her to be the keeper of his story, in the event that he survived and was granted a trial. By the end of the summer there was little he did not know of her or she of him- and he had succeeded in not only turning her to his side but befriending her. It was a strange friendship, and both were aware of its oddity- but to his surprise and hers it worked surprisingly well.

"That wasn't like you, Hermione. It isn't like you to not perform in class, it isn't like you to draw attention to yourself, and I want an answer."

Hermione sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose, a gesture she was unaware she had picked up from him. "Casting a Patronus would have drawn more attention to myself," she admitted quietly. "I didn't want to risk it."

"Why?" demanded Severus.

Hermione glanced up at him, then back down. "Do you know anything about my Patronus?" she asked meekly. Her heart was beating far too fast.

"It is an otter, if I remember correctly," he said, his frown deepening. "Cast one now."

Hermione took a shaky breath, closed her eyes, and cast, half hoping what she had seen the night before had been a product of weariness and her imagination. But no, when she opened her eyes, a sleek, silvery fox was investigating Severus. Finding no apparent danger, it turned around him once then disappeared.

When she finally managed to look at Severus' face, she swallowed hard. He looked… shocked. Shocked and a bit embarrassed.

"That… was not an otter," he said finally. "I see the problem."

Hermione nodded, her cheeks flaming. "I didn't want too many questions," she said softly.

Something in his face changed- the shock dissipated and a cold neutrality dropped. "I'll give you full credit for the day," he said finally. "I understand you not wanting your friends prying into your love life."

"You don't need to do that," Hermione said, embarrassed. "I didn't do it in class, after all."

"Fine, then I won't," Severus snapped, shocking her with the nastiness in his voice. He had stopped being truly cruel to her a long time ago- this was not what she had expected. "You're dismissed."

Stunned and a little confused, Hermione left the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. Why had he reacted like that?

Had he realized that her Patronus had changed because of him?

* * *

 **So ends Part One.**

 **The problem is, not a word of part two has been written yet. So... what do you want to see? I have a general idea of where it will go and some scenes I want to write for it, but I'm open to ideas and suggestions.**

 **Thanks for reading, and the next part should be up... well, sometime in August probably. Also, next update for FTOH will be on Friday.**

 **Please review!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello my lovelies.**

 **Sorry for the extreme length of time between updates- life caught up with me. I started my new school year, classes and clubs are insane, and I am drowning in work that needs to be done. More below. For now, enjoy Part Two!**

 _ **Part 2**_

Hermione went through the rest of her classes that day in a kind of daze- she wasn't focusing on McGonagall or Sprout, she was thinking about Severus. It wasn't until after dinner that she had the chance to escape to the library, where she knew the boys wouldn't follow her. The questions at dinner had been humiliating and uncomfortable- everyone wanted to know why she hadn't shown her Patronus, and she did not want to answer. The library was the one place that they would all just leave her alone.

She settled into the same seat she had taken over the summer, looking out onto the lake. It was a clear night, with only a light breeze ruffling the treetops. Still, the slowly darkening purple of the sky warned that the sun was setting later and that winter was finally leaving, even as it turned the water of the lake black as the early spring night sank down upon the grounds.

"How on earth did this happen?" Hermione asked her reflection in the glass. "How did I fall in love with Severus Snape?"

* * *

 _September_

Potions Master and student stared at each other, both breathing hard.

"I didn't mean for you to see that, Miss Granger," said Snape, inclining his head so that his hair fell forward, hiding his face. "I apologize." He leaned against the desk, strained from the effort of ejecting her from his mind.

Hermione, despite the pounding headache growing behind her eyes, shook her head. "Don't apologize for that, Professor Snape," she said quietly. "No child should be treated like that. You shouldn't have been treated like that." Hesitantly, she stepped forward and reached out a hand, resting it on his forearm. "I'm sorry."

"Now you are the one apologizing with no reason," murmured Severus. "Don't." He pushed his hair back, looking down at her with a glare- a glare that somehow managed to be friendly, of all things.

She squeezed his arm and let go. "I'm hoping you'll decide that is all for today?" she asked hopefully. "My head feels like it's made of earth and there are all manner of things digging holes through it."

To her surprise, he snorted in amusement. "Yes, that's all the Occlumency. But it's still a half hour before I can let you go- to avoid arousing suspicion. Would you like some tea?" They had decided for Hermione to announce that she was doing a special project for Defense Against the Dark Arts, which was why she had to meet with Professor Snape every Thursday night.

"I would love some," Hermione said, beaming at him. "And if you include that headache cure you brew, I'll be even happier."

The strangest expression crossed his face- his eyebrow raised and one corner of his mouth stretched up. Hermione realized half a beat late that it was a smile, of a kind. A crooked half smile, like he wasn't quite sure what to do with his mouth.

"Then by all means, a headache cure will find its way into the tea," he drawled. "I could use some too." He turned the handle of a door that suddenly appeared behind in the wall behind his desk, and disappeared into his quarters.

In a short moment he was back, bearing a tea tray laden with a heavy teapot, two cups, and a half eaten packet of biscuits. And, behind the teapot, a small package simply wrapped with brown paper. He busied himself with the tea, pouring it and offering her sugar and cream. It was domestic, almost unsettlingly so. Hermione settled into her chair, frowning at him suspiciously. Still, the tea was delicious and with a vial of Severus Snape's headache cure inside, it took only a few sips for the pressure behind her eyes to abate.

"What's that?" she asked finally, gesturing to the packet.

Severus picked it up, turning it over in his long fingers. It was funny- until that moment, she had never really noticed how graceful Professor Snape's hands were. The fingers were long and slim and scattered with faint scars. They danced over the package, tracing the sting it was tied with.

"I understand that you turned seventeen last week," he said finally. "And it came to my attention that no one has seen fit to continue with wizarding tradition, and therefore I have taken it upon myself to do so." He stretched out his arm and offered her the package, which Hermione accepted with slightly shaky hands. "Open it."

She did so. Inside was an old looking gold necklace. It bore a heavy looking gold locket, which revealed a timepiece when Hermione pressed it open. There was a delicate kind of filigree lace pattern on the outside of the locket, and the chain was sturdy but pretty. "Professor Snape, this is beautiful," she said, fighting back tears.

"It is custom to give a witch or wizard a watch when their reach their majority," he said, in his slightly stilted way. "For wizards, especially, a watch is tradition. For witches, any kind of timepiece does, really. It is unsurprising that no one thought to give you one- traditionally it is the parents or grandparents, or occasionally, a mentor. They must have thought your parents would have done it, but as your parents are not of our world, there is no way they would have known. Therefore, I felt it was my duty to-"

"Thank you," she said, interrupting him. "Thank you."

He nodded solemnly. "It was my pleasure, Miss Granger."

* * *

 _October_

Hermione approached the door to Professor Snape's office with a hint of trepidation. She knew this night would be different- at their last session, he had given her a book to read- a book on strategy of all things- and had warned her that he would expect her thoughts on it the next time.

She knocked, waited for him to bid her entry, and walked inside, clutching the book to her chest. Severus snorted when he saw her. "It's not a security blanket, Miss Granger, and I thought we already established that I don't bite."

Hermione grinned at him sheepishly, then lowered the book. "Sorry," she said. "But after everything that happened with Katie Bell- I've been a bit jumpy lately."

Severus frowned, but gestured for her to sit. "About that. What are your thoughts?"

"On the Katie Bell incident?" asked Hermione. Severus nodded, but she was already talking. "That was strange, Professor. Really, really strange. I knew that the Dark Lord is back, I knew that there were going to be attacks, but I didn't expect it to be so soon, and so close to Hogwarts."

"Those are your emotions," snapped the Professor. "Tell me what the facts tell you. And don't tell me you haven't tried to put it all together, because if you didn't you aren't"

Hermione straightened in her chair, taking a moment to organize her thoughts. "Fine. An attack in Hogsmeade, on a weekend that it was known that there would be Hogwarts students present, tells me that whoever orchestrated the attack wanted to cause a particular reaction in the Hogwarts population. It was a message to the residents of the castle- students or teacher, I'm not sure yet. That's the problem- normally, I'd say that this kind of attack was nondiscriminatory, meant to cause fear and not to attack anyone in particular. But- but something is telling me it isn't that."

"I believe we have discussed your instinct for sorting out information like this in the past," Severus said quietly. "Go with your intuition on this."

Small white teeth closed on her lower lip. It caught his attention and held it for a moment, before she began to talk again. "Okay. So, something is telling me it wasn't an attack meant to inspire terror. Katie went into the bathroom, then came back with a cursed object. She then headed back to the castle. If it was a terror attack that wouldn't make sense. If they wanted to scare as many students as possible, they should have had Katie touch the necklace inside the very crowded Three Broomsticks. There were tons of students in there- on the road to the castle, no one saw her touch it except for Harry, Ron, and me. That tells me that the person the message was supposed to be delivered to was in the castle. The only people in the castle on a Hogsmeade weekend are the younger children, and then the teachers who stayed behind." She paused, uncrossing her legs then crossing them again.

"Keep going," urged Snape.

She sighed. "That line of thought wasn't taking me anywhere. So I turned to the cursed object- a necklace of opals." Hermione hesitated. "I saw it over the summer," she confessed. "Ron, Harry, and I followed Draco Malfoy into Borgin and Burke's."

Severus raised an eyebrow. "Did you now?"

"We did," she said, her chin set mulishly. "So, Harry is convinced that Draco was the one who bought the necklace and somehow gave it to Katie. It would work out perfectly, except that when we went to tell Professor McGonagall, she said that Draco had been in detention with her all day. So, there is no reason it should have been Draco, except Harry feels like it is… and something is telling me that he has something to do with all of this. And now, thinking about it, you're going to kill Dumbledore because Draco is supposed to- so could this have been an attempt for Draco to kill Dumbledore? Make Katie deliver a cursed package? It works, except Draco wouldn't be that stupid- there are so many ways for that plan to go wrong, as we saw."

Severus leaned back in his chair, bringing the pads of his fingers together in a steeple as he considered Hermione. "You're close to correct," he said finally. "The plan was not Draco's, the plan was his mother's, but he was the one who executed it. It was meant to kill Dumbledore, and as you saw, it didn't work very well."

"Damn it," Hermione whispered. "I was hoping it wasn't Malfoy. Either of the Malfoys. That was- that was so reckless! Katie could have died-" A hand was at her chest, nervously fiddling with the locket she wore.

"To the Malfoys, Miss Bell was expendable," Snape said quietly. "She meant nothing to them, just a means to an end. Instead, they are probably angry that she touched the necklace and lost them a valuable magical object. But what does this tell you about Draco and his mother, Miss Granger?" Hermione didn't want to notice it, but she did see that he called Draco by his first name and yet he stilled referred to her as Miss Granger.

Hermione sighed, slumping in her chair and rubbing her temples. "That they're scared and desperate and they're not acting smart," she said mournfully. "And since they're scared and desperate, they're just going to hurt more people as they try to get what they want."

Severus nodded. "Exactly."

"But what do we do about it?" Hermione asked, rising from her chair and looking at him defiantly, brown eyes wide. "What do we do?"

Severus arched an eyebrow, and slowly, Hermione retreated back into her seat. " _We_ do nothing, Miss Granger. _I_ will try to get Draco to listen to me, as futile an effort as that may be."

"But isn't there anything I can do to help?" asked Hermione, a begging note in her voice. She leaned forward in her seat. "Please, Professor Snape."

For a moment, he was quiet, thinking. "What you can do is try to get Potter off the scent," he said finally. "If he gets wind of this, it will be bad. Just keep him out of this whole mess, understood?"

Hermione nodded eagerly. "Yes. Yes, I can do that."

* * *

 _November_

He was in her mind and he could see the youngest Weasley boy wrapped around the twittery Miss Brown, and it was unclear where her mouth ended and Weasley's began. Since he was in her mind, Severus could feel Hermione's hurt and her embarrassment and the creeping sense of _I didn't even like him that much but I was trying to and then he goes and does this_ and the jealousy for the kiss-

And then that memory led to a corridor when it was dark and cold and there was fluttery satin against her skin and Krum's face was approaching and there was a mouth pressed against hers and a warm hand moving up- dangerously high- from her waist to her ribcage-

She was pushing against him, using her memory and his surprised emotion to follow the attraction in her gut to him memory of the same attraction, and she was in his mind-

Bodies, moving roughly against each other, his mouth kissing a woman with red hair with a bruising pressure, flesh against flesh-

And then she was roughly expelled from his mind, and they were in the present, in the real, and Hermione was turning and retching from the dizziness that came with being so forcefully ejected. Her cheeks were flaming red, as were Severus'.

"Oh dear," Hermione croaked finally. "I'm assuming I wasn't ever supposed to get anywhere near that- um- kind of stuff?"

Severus groaned, and sat behind his desk. "I was hoping that wouldn't happen," he admitted. "You did a fantastic job of using my reaction to your memories to push me out of your mind and into mine, but you shouldn't have followed me there, just expelled me."

"I tried but your hooks were in pretty deep," Hermione admitted. "I figured I'd just follow and wait for you to kick me out or for me to get your hooks free, whichever came first." She coughed weakly. There was no way she wanted to admit that her mouth burned, that she could feel the phantom pressure of what it was like when Severus Snape kissed someone, and that pressure was tugging at something in her lower belly.

Severus sighed. "I supposed I knew it would have happened sooner or later," he said grumpily. "I should have put those kinds of memories in a Pensieve."

"It's not too bad- we're both adults, and I can deal with it," Hermione said, looking up at him. "Don't worry about it, Professor."

He frowned at her. "You're an adult in name only," he said, tone biting. "You've had one kiss- there is no reason why you should be seeing your Potions Professor in that situation, and I should have taken precautions-"

"Hush," she told him, crossing her arms over her chest stubbornly. "That's just rude. Get over it."

There was a moment as he gaped at her in disbelief. "Get over it."

"Yes," she told him. "And then don't go digging there in my memories in the future."

He shook his head. "Agreed."

"Tea?" she suggested. "We can talk about that book you lent me…"

* * *

 _December_

Slughorn's Christmas Party had long wound down, and students were slowly streaming out to go to bed. After the disastrous interaction with Draco, Severus had returned to the party, spending the evening glowering at his Firewhiskey. He knew the Dark Lord wouldn't call him that night, so when Horace had pressed toast after toast into his hand, he had taken at least one more than he should have. The man was a bore and an annoyance- Severus Snape was a Potions Master, with credentials held by only a dozen other wizards in Europe, and Slughorn had missed Severus' talent in school and deeply regretted it.

For some reason, he had been hoping for more than a glimpse of Hermione Granger. He had seen her arrive at the party on the arm of a brutish Quidditch player- McLaggen, or something like that. With growing disgust he noticed how the Gryffindor's arm was hooked possessively around Hermione's waist, how he had tried to pull her close and tuck his nose in the crook of her neck. He was gratified when she seemed to try to avoid to brute all evening, hiding behind people and using Harry as a distraction.

She had flashed him a quick, harried smile when she had passed him once, and he returned it with a nod. She looked lovely in red, he decided. Her dress robes were red and a little low cut, but still within the limits of tasteful. They were tight around her waist, then fell gracefully to the floor. Her hair was up in a way that actually left most of down in little ringlet curls. Hermione Granger was not the most beautiful girl in the room, but she was definitely the most interesting, he thought.

He hadn't seen her leave, but when the room was mostly empty and he saw that she was there any more, Severus left. It was his night to patrol the castle, but since his mind was a little hazy, he decided to just to a quick sweep of half of nooks and crannies where students liked to hide, then go to bed.

He was nearly done when he heard her voice.

"Get _off_ of me, I'm serious, Cormac!" It was Hermione's, and she sounded frazzled and annoyed.

"Granger-"

Feeling himself fill with thunderous rage, Severus turned the corner. They weren't far from Gryffindor Tower- there was a little dead end that students sometimes used for liaisons. There was Cormac, his face ruddy, and Hermione, her arms tightly folded against her chest and her face furious. She looked like an angry kitten without claws, and the boy's bulk next to her make her seem even smaller.

"What do we have here?" Severus drawled, his voice low and dangerous. Both of them whirled to face him. Hermione's face paled.

"Professor-" she began.

"Silent, Miss Granger," snapped Severus. He didn't notice that his hands were balled into fists or that his voice was more tight than calm. "Mr. McLaggen, you'll be serving detention with me when you get back from break. Report to my office after dinner the first night back. Go!"

Without a glance at Hermione, the boy left, leaving the two of them in the nook. Severus crossed his arms to match hers, glaring right back. He tried not to notice that the locket he had given her was hanging right above her cleavage.

"What does an intelligent woman like you see in an idiot like that?" he asked finally. "What leads to you being groped in a corridor by a poor excuse for a troll?"

Hermione sighed, leaning against the wall. "I just wanted someone to go with, and he didn't seem that bad," Hermione said, covering her face. Alarmed, he noticed that she seemed to be crying.

"Don't – don't cry," he said, pulling a clean handkerchief from his pocket. "Here."

She accepted it gratefully, wiping her eyes. "Why aren't you punishing me?"

"Because it seems like a night with that dolt was punishment enough," Severus murmured. "You looked lovely, by the way. Red suits you." He smirked when she raised her face. "Red eyes, too."

She stuck out her tongue at him. "Prat," she muttered.

"Know it all," he retaliated.

Hermione tapped the handkerchief with her wand to clean it, then tried to hand it back to him. "Thank you," she said, meeting his eyes. "You don't really let people see that you're actually a kind person, do you?"

Severus frowned, and motioned that she should keep it. "I'm not a kind person."

"Of course you're not," Hermione said wryly, holding back a laugh as his affronted tone. "You're a good man even if you don't think you are."

* * *

 _January_

"Happy birthday, Professor Snape," Hermione said, beaming at him. She pushed a small wrapped package at him. "Open it, open it!"

He gave her a withering glare, and picked up the gift as if it would bite him. "How did you know it was my birthday?" he asked suspiciously.

"I looked it up in the teacher directory," Hermione said, flapping a hand at him. "Go on! I didn't curse it." She looked down, then up again through her lashes. "I don't bite either," she murmured.

The package was soft and floppy, wrapped in simple brown paper and string. With a sniff, Severus wandlessly and wordlessly Vanished the wrapping, leaving his hands full of soft green wool. He held up the scarf, examining it. The wool was warm and thick, and the shade of green was so dark it was almost black. There were spells for warmth knit in, and a subtle diamond pattern that she had made by reversing the stitch. He knew it was handmade the moment he saw it- there were a few places where it was too wide and a few more where it was too thin. "Did you make this?" he asked finally.

She beamed at him. "Yes," she said happily. "I was home for Christmas with nothing really to do, and my mother had bought that green wool and the moment I saw it I knew I had to make you something for your birthday."

It was so soft. He stroked it once, twice, three times before he caught himself. "It's… very nice," he said, fighting to prevent color from rising to his cheeks. "Thank you." He was picturing her sitting in the childhood bedroom he had seen in her mind, in the sunny kitchen with blue cabinets, on the comfy leather sofa, knitting away at the scarf with a determined or pensive expression on her face. Something in his chest squeezed tight.

"Professor Snape-"

"Severus," he said, interrupting her. "Call me Severus. Here, at least, when it is just us."

Hermione smiled at him. "Severus, then. You're welcome. And please, call me Hermione."

At the next Quidditch game, from across the stands, Hermione saw a flash of dark green at his neck, and smiled broadly to herself, warmed by more than the hot chocolate in her hands and the bluebell flames in a jar by her feet. He was _wearing_ the scar she made around his neck, and she wore his locket as her throat. All was right in the world.

* * *

 _February_

"How are Apparition lessons coming along?" asked Severus, sipping at his tea.

Hermione made a face. "It's harder than I thought it would be, but at least I haven't Splinched myself," she admitted. "Ron has and it looks painful."

Severus' face dipped from stern neutrality in a frown. "It is," he said shortly. "I've done it a fair few times and if I have my druthers I'd as well not do it again."

It was almost amusing, the way her mouth dropped open and she gaped at him like a fish. "You? You've Splinched yourself?" Part of him was glad that she thought him so adept at the magical arts to be so incapable of such a mistake, and the other part of him was upset that he would have to shatter such an image of himself, and held by her no less.

He glared down his long nose at her. "Yes."

"How on earth did you of all people manage that?" asked Hermione, still looking incredulous, but also slightly amused as if she suspected him of teasing her. "I don't know of anyone with better control of their magic, Severus, no one!"

There had been many times in his life that Severus had heard a backhanded compliment, but none of them had come from a better place. "It was because I didn't have control of my magic at the time," he said, unconsciously tracing the outline of his lips with the tip of a finger. "The Dark Lord punishes his followers when he is displeased, Hermione. I've protected you from those memories in my mind, mostly because they are buried so far down that I cannot remember them myself without actively trying. He uses the Cruciatus curse until a person is on the brink of insanity, he tries out new curses, he lets others try out new curses… it's not pleasant, and it often leaves the person who has disappointed him in quite the state of magical disarray. Not to mention bodily disarray- leaving behind a chunk of flesh while Apparating back home after such a punishment is not uncommon. Now, if one knows one is to be punished, it is common to ask a… well, a friend is an odd way of putting it, but a friend to stay and Side-Along one home afterward. It creates a debt though, to ask such a favor. Myself, I prefer the Splinching."

The amused quirk of her lips had disappeared, and Hermione had paled. At some point, she had raised a hand to her mouth, a hand that trembled. "Oh, Severus."

"I don't want your pity," he snarled, suddenly regretting telling her.

Hermione shook her head. "I don't pity you," she said, shaking her head again. "I hate him, Severus. I hate him so much. I don't think I've ever hated anyone before, not even Malfoy, but I _hate_ the Dark Lord. I _hate_ him for hurting you, I hate him for killing Harry's parents, and I hate him for threatening the world of magic that as supposed to be perfect and wonderful and not filled with things like people I care about Splinching themselves because they've been tortured so long they've lost control of their magic."

Severus looked at her, his anger calming. "No world is perfect, Hermione."

"My birthday is in September," Hermione said, a note of misery in her voice. "September 19, Severus. That meant that I had an entire year, minus nineteen days, to dream about stepping onto the Hogwarts Express and read about magic and the Wizarding World. One year minus nineteen days to dream about it. I thought it would be perfect."

She and Severus locked eyes for a long moment. The air grew heavy and sad in the space around them.

"I thought it would be perfect too," Severus admitted finally. "Except instead of one year, I had eleven."

The conversation moved on soon enough, but when Hermione rose to leave and Severus rose to open the door for her, she turned suddenly and hugged him around the middle, tucking her face against his chest. "I'm sorry this world isn't as perfect as we dreamed it to be," she whispered, knowing he would still hear. She could feel the rapid, almost scared, thump of his heart under her cheek.

Then, all too quickly, before he could react, she pulled away and ducked out of the door, leaving a stunned Severus Snape behind her.

* * *

 _March- Present_

How had she fallen in love with Severus Snape?

The answer was slowly and surely. It had happened without her knowing it at first, then suddenly it was there and a facet of her everyday life. Severus Snape had grown dearer and dearer to her, until she considered him an odd sort of friend. Then he had become more than just a friend, he had become the one person who knew her down to her very bones. From there she had started to notice his hands, his beautiful delicate hands, and then his eyes that were kind when no one was watching, and then his height and his features and the way he smelled like smoke and ink and dried herbs.

When he traced his lips with his finger she thought about kissing him. Or rather, him kissing her the way she had felt in that memory of his, all fire and heat and pressure- and gods she hadn't noticed it in the moment but in the memory he had been hard and aching with _want_. Oh, she wanted him to feel that way about her not some redheaded woman with dark brown eyes and wandering hands.

He had seemed so cold, so disinterested when she had revealed her Patronus to him. Either he knew and he did not care, he did not reciprocate, or he hadn't realized and he thought she was in love with someone else, Ron perhaps, or Harry.

Hermione didn't know which was worse.

* * *

Two days later, it was Thursday and time for Hermione's weekly meeting with Severus. Two days of avoiding looking at him during meals in the Great Hall, of trying to avoid thinking of him at all. Except, of course, she thought about him all the time, she could picture his face without looking at it three times a day, and she spent all her free time composing what she would say to him once she finally had him alone again.

When she arrived at his office- no longer in the dungeons, but still far away from the rest of the castle- Hermione was surprised to find the door unlocked, but the room empty. Still, she sat down to wait for him, thinking that he had just ducked into his rooms to make a pot of tea, or he had deliberately planned to be late to make her squirm.

Five minutes passed, then eight, then ten. With a frustrated sigh, Hermione checked the time again on her watch. When she had been waiting for him for twenty minutes, she finally stood, spots of red high on her cheeks. She was irate and almost irrationally upset, close to tears.

A silvery light burst through the wall, leaping through the desk and swirling in front of her. It had the distinct form of an animal- a fox with a battered ear and wary eyes. Severus' voice came from its mouth- "Outside the gates. Help."

Hermione didn't remember running through the school- twisting and turning in the dungeons, praying that the stairs would listen to her, running out the door and into the fresh air, still cold at night. Running, running, running through the air her feet never touching the ground because she was held up by fear and fear alone. Later she would remember seeing his form crumpled in the grass. The light had not quite faded, the sky was shades of purple and dusky rose, and the grass was the deepest green she had ever seen it, barely contrasting with the black robes of the Potions professor. Still, the white of his Death Eater mask, with a streak of red, red blood on it, was clearly visible. Her arms ached as she opened the gates, pulling the heavy metal to the side until she had a slot just big enough to slip through.

He was breathing harshly when she fell on her knees in the damp grass beside him.

"Severus, Severus-" she said, her eyes wide and full of fear. "What do I do- the hospital wing-"

Their eyes met and she was pulled into his mind.

 _Spinner's End_

 _Apparate_

There was image of a potions cabinet and what looked like three mouthfuls of a blue potion in a large bottle.

"I can't Apparate, I've only taken a few classes-" she pleaded. He coughed then, and blood fell from his lips. Hermione drew in a shaky breath, grabbed his arm, and twisted. It was awful, it felt like her lungs were on fire and her rib cage was being squeezed and her eyes were going to burst from the pressure, but then they landed on a hard wooden floor. Pain flared in her knees, so bad that when she tried to stand she fell again. Still, she pushed herself up, running through the house she had only seen in his mind to find the potion.

Hermione let herself breathe when finally she tipped the last few drops of the potion into his mouth, laying the empty bottle by his head. His color improved rapidly, his breathing eased. Something inside her that had been wound so tightly her chest hurt released, and tears came flooding from her cheeks.

Over the rest of the night she cared for him, tending his wounds and tipping potions down his throat, eventually falling into an uneasy sleep in the worn loveseat next to the sofa. The room smelled uncomfortably of blood and cigarette smoke, like old booze and polluted air. It wasn't a pleasant place to be by any means, with peeling wallpaper and phantom memories she had seen in Severus' head of an angry man with large fists and a pale withered woman.

Her dreams were of his dreams, his nightmares, his childhood. The man whom she cared about deeply wasn't sleeping next her so much as he was passed out. At least he wasn't dreaming, she thought, at least he wasn't dreaming of what his place evoked in her. Because if it caused such awful emotions in her, Hermione knew that it would do so in him.

In his memories, Hermione had only seen an adult Severus in Spinner's End in the lowest of times. Injured, drunk, sick. Even in the summers he resided in the castle, staying as far away as possible from the old home in the old mill town with the old furniture and old pain. It wasn't a place he returned to if he had the choice, and she hated that she had brought him there.

She had set an alarm for the hour ahead of the sun's advance. It would be Friday morning after all, and she had class. At this point, at least, even Hermione Granger knew that there were things more important than classes- however, it had turned out that appearances were one of those things, and as such, classes needed to be attended. The alarm blared far too soon, and jerked her awake from the dozing kind of sleep that wasn't useful or resting.

To her surprise, the man on the couch opened his eyes. It was just a glitter in the darkness as his eyes were almost black and the room had no light. She didn't trust that he was awake until he sighed.

"So you're alive then," she said, her voice hoarse. It was hardly above a whisper, and yet in the silence it seemed louder than she had thought possible.

He made no move to stand or even sit up. "I suppose I am," he croaked. "Water?"

Hermione rose, stretched. She didn't notice her shirt ride up, or his eyes focusing on the strip of skin suddenly framed by shirt and skirt. "I'll get that for you," she replied.

In moments she was back and he was sitting up and sipping at the glass. She pretended not to notice the dried blood on his clothes or on his brow. "What time is it?" he asked. His voice was stronger now, but his hand still trembled as he held the cup.

"Five in the morning," she replied. "So that we can be back to the school before breakfast. Or if you need more time, at least before classes."

He smiled at her then, a crooked thing with no humor in it. "You did well last night, Hermione," he said. "Thank you."

Impulsively she reached out, took his hand in both of hers. "You scared me so badly," she said, her voice falling into a whisper when it cracked. "I thought you were dead."

Severus squeezed her hand gently. "I had enough strength to send a Patronus," he said. "I couldn't have been that bad off."

"It was a fox," she replied, only able to meet his eyes for a brief moment before looking away once more.

Suddenly he was gripping her hand tighter. "Don't tell anyone," he said harshly. "Look at me, Hermione- don't tell anyone. And as far as you can do, don't show anyone your Patronus."

Confused, Hermione stared at him. "I wasn't planning on it," she said quietly. "How embarrassing would it be if my friends knew that I was in love with my Potions Professor? So much so that my Patronus changed for him?"

The somber expression on his face changed, closed, became distant. The hand pulled away. "It is for my safety, not your feelings, woman," he said harshly. "The only reason the Headmaster trusts me is because he thinks I'm still in love with Lily Potter."

"Still in love?" asked Hermione. "What- wait- yours changed too?"

"I might not be the man you would want me to be, but I still have feelings," he hissed at her. "Even though you are my student and I am your teacher. Even though I'm on the wrong side of this damned war no matter how things fall out-"

Hermione reached out, placed a finger over his mouth. "You feel the same way?" she whispered. "Here I was, thinking I was going crazy seeing things, thinking you that might care-"

Severus kissed her then, quickly, gently. There was no tongue, no burning flaming passion, just a brief brush of lips that filled Hermione with a peace she didn't know she could find in the darkness of the morning in a place filled with hate.

"I do care," he said gruffly, pulling away. "But now is not the time nor is it the place." He rose, wavered for a moment, then stalked off. Minutes later, Hermione heard the shower start to run.

"He cares," she whispered, her fingers hovering over her mouth, scared to touch them in fear that the feeling of his lips on hers would vanish.

* * *

 **So ends Part Two.**

 **I hope the romance makes up for the long time I've made all of you wait. Part Three will be up as soon as I'm finished writing it. :)**

 **As far as life goes, for those of you who are following FTOH, it'll be a while before things aren't so crazy I can find time to write. I'm getting that paper published so it get writing priority time right now, and so does all my school work, and the clubs I'm now running, and the volunteering I'm doing. So it's a shit ton of work.**

 **Thank you so much for reading, more next time. Reviews would be lovely! Thanks to every single amazing person who reviewed last time, and every single lovely person who voted for FTOH in the SSHG fanfic awards.**


	3. Plagiarism

Hello folks.

For the second time in years as an author here on , I am writing to my readers about plagiarism. If you follow my story _For the Only Hope,_ then you remember the time more than a year ago when I was dealing with another person who was stealing my work to claim as their own. I know that I fondly remember the outpouring of support, but I also remember how gutting it was.

Earlier today, I got this review:

* * *

Kissy Kissy chapter 1 . 5h ago

Oh my gosh! This is my favourite fanfic!

In fact, I uploaded it on Archive of Our Own website under my username so I can also get some nice reviews. Hope you don't mind! thanks you're a doll XXX

* * *

This is horribly upsetting for me.

First, I am not on Archive of Our Own, so I don't know whether or not this person has followed through with their threat, or what to do if they have.

Second, no, this person never asked my permission to post my stories on that site. That they are doing it _by their own admission_ "so I can also get some nice reviews" is so wrong.

Third, they did this on anon. I have no idea who they are, or if "Kissy Kissy" is their user name on AO3.

Fourth, I realize this might be just someone trying to troll me, and that is even worse. it means that someone thought that the best way to hurt me would be to send this message. They saw someone who is very busy and still spends a lot of time writing fan fic and thought that it would be fun to fuck with me? No.

I am not a doll. I am a very angry author, and I need your help.

If you are the person who sent me this review, please _do not_ upload _Part of Forever_ on AO3. I do not want it there. If I decide to join, then I will post my stories under my own name. Come off of anon, so that we can work this out like adults over a private chat so I don't have to call you out in public like this, which I do not like to do.

If you are reader who is made upset by this, help me out. If you are on AO3 and you see this (or any of my other stories tbh) story on there, please contact me, and go through whatever steps you have to do to report it! From my internet sleuthing skills, as mediocre as they are, I haven't seen chunks of text from this story anywhere yet. There is someone with the user name "Kissy Kissy" on AO3, but I don't think they do Harry Potter. Is there a waiting period for AO3 stories?

The next chapter of this story will probably not be posted for a while. This story is supposed to be a gift to my readers, who so faithfully voted for me in the SSHG awards. I love the concept, and have been working on it for a long time. That someone would be so bold to try to use it so they can get reviews is awful. The condensation in the review just made things worse. The last person who plagiarized from me didn't have the gall to let me know about it.

So, thank you for reading, and sorry to bring such upsetting news.


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